


Stand-In

by tilallare0ne



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Dirty Talk, Everything is consensual tho, Friends With Benefits, Humor, Light-Hearted, M/M, Megatron asks Rodimus to pretend to be Starscream in the berth, Or co-captains with benefits, Oral Sex, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, That's what this fic is about I'm sorry I'm so, dubcon roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7850254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tilallare0ne/pseuds/tilallare0ne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You want me to what?” Rodimus sputtered, staring down at Megatron from where he sat straddling his co-captain’s waist on his berth.</p><p>And Primus, he never thought he’d see Megatron, ex-leader of the Decepticons, blush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stand-In

“You want me to _what?_ ” Rodimus sputtered, staring down at Megatron from where he sat straddling his co-captain’s waist on his berth.

And Primus, he never thought he’d see Megatron, ex-leader of the Decepticons, _blush_.

“I would like you to pretend to be Starscream while we interface,” Megatron repeated, voice wavering a little more than when he’d murmured it between harsh kisses a minute ago.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rodimus said incredulously. It wasn’t that he had an issue with Megatron pretending he was someone else when they fragged – whatever they had going on here was purely for stress relief, because the last thing the Lost Light needed was two sexually frustrated captains constantly at each other’s throats. It was just…

“ _Starscream?_ Really?”

Megatron reset his vocalizer awkwardly, not making eye contact. “Call it nostalgia.”

Primus, that was more than Rodimus _ever_ wanted to know.

“Let me get this straight,” he said slowly. “You want me to pretend to be your traitorous second-in-command while you frag me because you _miss him?_ ”

“No,” Megatron said, the ghost of a smirk forming on his face. “Not because I miss _him_. Because I miss the challenge.”

-

Rodimus couldn’t believe he was going through with this.

He paced awkwardly in front of Megatron’s quarters, shoulders adorned with a pair of functionless but real-looking wings that he was eternally grateful Perceptor hadn’t asked any questions about while building.

Finally, he took a deep breath and pressed the panel next to the door, requesting entry.

Megatron’s voice crackled over the com, slightly raspier than usual.

“Come in, Starscream.”

The door slid open and Rodimus stepped inside the darkened hab suite. As his optics adjusted, his frame heated up a little; Megatron was reclining on the berth, panel already open, stroking his more-than impressive spike with an equally large hand. Rodimus realized he was staring, and quickly changed his expression to a scowl. _Time to get in character._

“You wanted to see me, Megatron?” he said as he stepped closer to the berth, putting a little extra sway in his hips for good measure.

“Yes,” Megatron replied, optics narrowing. “You have betrayed me one too many times, Starscream. It’s time for you to be reminded of your place.”

Rodimus had to suppress a shiver. He was all too willing to be put in his place already – putting up a fight wasn’t something he was used to.

“And where is that, mighty Megatron?” he asked, trying for false sweetness with a hint of contempt. He wasn’t sure he achieved it, but Megatron smirked nonetheless.

“Let me show you.”

Megatron was on his feet and standing in front of him so quickly that Rodimus felt dizzy. He trailed the back of one servo down Rodimus’ cheek, and Rodimus forced himself to jerk away instead of nuzzling into the touch. The predatory grin he was rewarded with was enough to make his panel snap audibly open. Megatron’s optics flared as he looked down at Rodimus’ exposed, glistening valve.

“So eager for me already,” he purred. “I always knew you'd be easy.”

Rodimus’ mind spun frantically, searching for something to say that was more in character than _oh Primus, Megs, frag me._ Thankfully, Megatron didn’t seem to need a reply – instead, he placed both servos on Rodimus’ shoulders and shoved him roughly to his knees.

From this angle, Megatron’s spike was at eye level, and Rodimus had to force himself not to stare. Instead, he turned his face away, trying to look disgusted.

“Do you expect me to _want_ to suck that?” he asked, sneering.

Megatron chuckled. “Oh, Starscream. You fail to understand; tonight isn’t about what you want. It’s about what you need. And what you _need_ is to be reminded of where you belong in the Decepticon ranks: on your knees.” He rubbed the head of his spike against Rodimus’ cheek. Rodimus could feel a sticky strand of lubricant left there when he jerked away again.

“I won’t bow to you,” he said, guessing wildly at the correct response.

“I don’t need you to bow,” Megatron replied. He used one massive servo to turn Rodimus’ head back towards him. “I only need you to get that pretty mouth of yours around my spike.”

Rodimus wondered if he should protest more, but _slag it_ , he didn’t want to. He settled for a defiant glare, one that hopefully said, _“Fine, I’ll suck your spike, but I won’t enjoy it.”_   His optics dimmed as he took his co-captain’s spike into his mouth.

Rodimus was excellent at sucking spike, if he did say so himself, and he imagined Starscream would have a talent of his own for it, so he decided to give it his all. He started off slow, teasing, running his glossa along the line of biolights on the underside, occasionally pulling back to give a light lick to the head. Pre-fluid was beading at the tip of the spike, and Rodimus lapped it up eagerly. He could do this all day.

Megatron saw things differently, apparently. “Don’t tease me, Starscream,” he warned. “Suck it properly, _now_.”

Rodimus could work with that. He finally slid his mouth down properly over the spike, deep enough that the head of it bumped the back of his intake. His lips stretched wide around it, and he looked up with optics still dimmed, searching for approval. Megatron nodded, suppressing a moan as Rodimus bobbed his head.

“Very good, Starscream,” he hummed. “Doesn’t it feel good to obey your leader?”

In reply, Rodimus offlined his optics completely and relaxed his intake, taking Megatron’s spike deeper until his nose bumped against Megatron’s array.

“Yes,” Megatron groaned, one hand sliding to the back of Rodimus’ helm. “Now hold still.”

Rodimus had a moment to steady himself, and then Megatron started to thrust his hips back and forth, spike sliding in and out of Rodimus’ intake as he fucked his mouth. Rodimus gagged, oral lubricant streaming down his chin, and Megatron cursed under his breath, thrusts quickening.

Rodimus pulled off with a popping noise, smirking up at Megatron. Megatron's look of dismay at the loss of contact was almost funny.

“Close already?" Rodimus teased. "I thought you’d have more stamina than that.”

“Hardly,” Megatron sneered. “I have other plans for you.”

He yanked Rodimus to his feet and steered him toward the berth, shoving him down onto it face-first.

“On your servos and knees,” he instructed. “Aft in the air.”

“As you wish,” Rodimus said, voice dripping with feigned sarcasm. He took his time getting into position, wiggling his aft to make sure that Megatron got a good view of his swollen valve. He could have sworn he heard a sharp invent behind him. He smirked down at the berth.

“Excellent,” Megatron said. “You’re getting better at taking orders already.” He climbed up onto the slab behind Rodimus, large servos grasping his thighs to pull his legs further apart. Rodimus felt fingers prodding at his array, spreading his valve open further. Cool air rushed over the heated mesh, and he had to stifle a whimper.

“Like what you see?” he asked breathlessly.

“It’ll do,” Megatron replied. “At least it’s nice and tight. How long has it been since you last interfaced?”

“I do fine, thank you,” Rodimus replied. He could almost hear Megatron sneer.

“I bet you do. Tell me, Starscream, is there anyone on this ship who you _haven’t_ let frag you?”

“You, last time I checked,” Rodimus shot back.

“Please. If I had asked in the past, you’d have complied just as easily as you are now.”

Before Rodimus could think of a snappy comeback to that, Megatron grabbed him around the waist and flipped him over onto his back. Rodimus quickly rearranged his face into a haughty frown. Megatron met his optics with a look of cold amusement, and _Primus_ , that look sent a shiver down his spinal struts.

Megatron’s optics stayed locked onto Rodimus’ as he slid down the berth, face lowering down between Rodimus’ legs. He gave one long, teasingly light swipe of his glossa between Rodimus’ valve lips. The contact was so tantalising that it made Rodimus’ whole frame twitch with the need for _more_. But Megatron seemed to have other plans; he spread Rodimus’ valve lips further and just _looked_.

Rodimus couldn’t help but whine, pressing his array forward to try to make contact.

Megatron chuckled, his grip on Rodimus’ hip tightening. “Patience, Starscream,” he murmured, breath ghosting over Rodimus’ valve.

“Fragging tease,” Rodimus muttered under his breath. He hadn’t meant for Megatron to hear it, but he must have – his optics narrowed, the amused smirk slipping from his face.

“What was that?”

Rodimus clenched his fists, mustering as much venom in his tone as he could. “You’re a teasing old glitch.”

Megatron’s optics flared. “If that’s how you feel, then I guess I’ll just… leave you here,” he said coldly, starting to get up off the berth.

Rodimus was so worked up that he broke character for a second. “Don’t you _dare_ ,” he gasped.

Thankfully, Megatron didn’t seem to notice the genuine reaction.

“You don’t give the orders here, Starscream. I do.” He was on his feet now, and he took a step away from the slab.

“Wait,” Rodimus hissed, slipping back into character again. Megatron paused, then turned around, crossing his arms expectantly.

“Don’t go,” Rodimus said, pretending to force the words out. “P-please.”

Megatron smirked, the smallest twitch of his lips upwards. He tilted his head, clearly waiting for more.

“Please… my Lord?” Rodimus tried. Megatron nodded, seemingly satisfied. He stalked back toward the berth, and Rodimus held in a groan of relief as he climbed back on top of him. When Megatron reached for his shoulders, Rodimus’ heart leapt. He was going to touch his spoiler, and slag, it would feel _so good_ in this state -

But instead, Megatron gripped one of the prop wings harshly, looking expectantly at Rodimus. Rodimus couldn’t resist rolling his eyes before he faked a gasp of pain. _Should have expected that_.

“I will frag you, but you will listen to and obey my commands, do you understand?”

Rodimus nodded, hoping his disappointment was hidden well enough. “Y-yes, Lord Megatron.”

“Good.” Without any further comment, Megatron pressed two thick fingers into Rodimus’ valve.

Rodimus moaned at the sudden, blunt stretch. His calipers cycled greedily, valve almost dripping with lubricant.

“So wet for me,” Megatron remarked, pulling his fingers out and pushing them back in again.

Rodimus could barely stay in character with the things Megatron’s fingers were doing to his valve.

“F-frag you,” he said weakly.

Megatron chuckled. “That’s it, Starscream. Give in.”

Rodimus took that as permission to stop _thinking_ so much. Finally, he let out a moan that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in.

“Mmmm, yes,” Megatron purred. “There’s my obedient little Seeker.”

Rodimus offlined his optics as he whimpered, pushing down onto Megatron’s servo. Megatron seemed to know exactly where every almost-painfully-sensitive internal node was, and the way he was pressing into them was making Rodimus’ processor spin. If Megatron didn’t frag him right the frag _now_ –

Megatron was one step ahead of him. “Is this not enough for you?” he teased, scissoring his fingers. Rodimus whined in response.

“I see. In that case –” he slipped his fingers out of Rodimus’ valve. “Let’s hear you beg for my spike.”

This was it: one more bit of acting and Megatron would give him what he wanted. _Might as well make it good._

“Please, Lord Megatron.” Rodimus didn’t even have to fake the desperate hoarseness of his voice. “Please frag me. Show me exactly where I belong and what I’m good for. Let me serve you in whatever way you want. Just please, _please_ take me.’

Megatron groaned, a deep, hungry sound. His hands wrapped around Rodimus’ slim waist, and Rodimus gasped in surprise as he rolled them over so Rodimus was on top, straddling his hips. The last coherent bit of his processor noted that this was his favorite position. He wondered if it was Starscream’s, too.

And then it didn’t matter, because Megatron’s spike was rubbing against his external node and Rodimus’ cooling fans kicked into their highest gear. Nearly shaking in anticipation, he moved himself into position and finally lowered himself down.

The opening of his valve stretched wide around Megatron’s spike. Even after Megatron had prepared him it burned a little, but Rodimus loved it. Technically speaking, his speedster’s frame probably wasn’t meant to take spikes the size of Megatron’s, but that had never stopped Rodimus before.

He rocked his hips down in small, quick motions until most of the spike was inside him. Megatron had stayed remarkably still the whole time. Rodimus doubted he would have given the real Starscream this much time to adjust. He gave his co-captain a small nod, a silent reminder that he knew the safe word if things got too rough. Megatron nodded back, offlining his optics for a few seconds. When he opened them again, a predatory smirk spread across his face.

He grabbed Rodimus’ hips, tight enough to leave just the smallest of dents, and lifted him up until only the head of his spike was still inside him. For a moment he just held him there, long enough that a tiny bit of nervousness began to creep into Rodimus’ EM field. Then Megatron slammed him back down.

Rodimus shouted in delight as Megatron’s spike hit his ceiling node, the jolt shaking his entire frame. The clang of metal-on-metal filled the room as Megatron rocked him up and down, thrusting up into him at the same time. It was all Rodimus could do to hang on for the ride as Megatron bounced him up and down, hitting his ceiling node with every thrust. Charge leapt between their frames, crackling and snapping. The noises Megatron was making were almost animalistic, rough grunts and snarls. Rodimus had never seen his composed, restrained co-captain lose control in the berth before, not like this. It made his spike throb, and he wrapped one hand around it, pumping it in time with Megatron’s furious pace.

When his rhythm started to falter, Rodimus knew Megatron was close to overload. His grip on Rodimus’ hips slackened, and Rodimus leaned forwards, bracing his free hand on Megatron’s chassis, ready to take over most of the work. Megatron groaned appreciatively as Rodimus moved his hips in quick, graceful circles.

“F-frag, Starscream…” Megatron rolled his hips up desperately, optics pleading with Rodimus for… something. Rodimus tried to clear his processor. _What would Starscream do?_ It only took a moment for him to find the answer.

Releasing his grip on his own spike, Rodimus reached forward and closed his fingers around Megatron’s throat. Megatron moaned and bucked beneath him, servos wrapping around Rodimus’ wrist and tugging, although not hard enough to actually pry his grip loose. His thrusts were erratic, vents blasting at full capacity. Rodimus smirked and, in a moment of inspiration, put all of his weight onto the servo wrapped around Megatron’s throat. He leaned down and whispered into his audial:

“Now I, Starscream, will be the leader of the Decepticons.”

Megatron shouted as he overloaded, hips snapping up to bury his spike deep inside Rodimus. Rodimus moaned in delight as spurt after spurt of transfluid filled his valve. He flexed his calipers to draw out Megatron’s overload as long as possible, until he was shaking and twitching underneath him. He released his grip on his throat, and Megatron _whimpered_.

“Rodimus,” he panted finally, and Rodimus tried hard to ignore the little rush of pleasure he felt at finally being called by his own name.

Not that he had more than a few seconds to think about it – Megatron grasped Rodimus’ hips and guided him up off his depressurizing spike, ignoring the drips of his own transfluid that gushed out of Rodimus’ valve, and slipped three fingers inside of him. Rodimus was full again before he even had time to whine at the sudden emptiness, and he moaned, fucking himself down onto Megatron’s servo. Charge sparked along his plating with every press of Megatron’s long digits to his ceiling node.

“Megs,” Rodimus moaned, and he was so fragging close. “Megs, _please!_ ”

Megatron wrapped his other hand around Rodimus’ spike. “Overload for me,” he said, gentle but commanding. It only took two strokes of his hand before Rodimus did, yelping as his valve squeezed around Megatron’s fingers and his spike spilled transfluid over Megatron’s fist and abdominal plating. Sparks erupted across his HUD, and he collapsed forward onto Megatron’s chest.

For a moment he just lay there, panting and shuddering his way through the last of the aftershocks. Megatron stroked one hand up and down his back.

“Thank you, Rodimus,” he said finally.

Rodimus shifted off of him, flopping onto his stomach on the berth. “No problem,” he replied. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking over at Megatron. “But, uh, next time we need a frag session, can I be myself again?”

Megatron smiled, looking at Rodimus through half-dimmed optics. “Yes. I think I’d prefer that.”

Rodimus quickly turned his head away to hide his grin.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a quick, silly idea. It ended up being 2800+ words and taking two months to finish. Oops.


End file.
